[Peep-develop] F Mrs. Cowdery, despite their remoteness of surrounding--for s

[Consuelo A. <lo...@im...>]

, no lapses of rhetoric. It is, in its way, complete, one may say,
since it is the intelligently contrived purpose of this poet to arrive
at a scheme of absolute spiritual harmony. He is first of all the
poet-painter in the sense that Albert Ryder is a painter for those with
a fine comprehension of the
imagination. Precisely as Redon is
an artist for artists, though not always their artist in convincing
esthetics, he too, satisfies the instinct for legend, for
transformation. Painters like Davies, Redon, Rops, Moreau, and the
other mystical
natures, give us rather the spiritual
trend of their own lives. In Redon and in Davies the vision is
untouched
by the foul breath of the world around them. In
Rops and Moreau you feel the imagination hurrying to the arms and
breasts of vice for their sense of home. The pathos of deliverance is
urgent in
them. In the work of Davies, and of Redon, there is the splendid
silence

of a world created by themselves, a world for the reflection of self.
There is
even a kind of narcissian arrogance, the
enchantment of the illumined

fact. Beauty recognizing herself with satisfaction--that seems to be
the purpose of the work of Arthur B. Davies. It is so much outside the
realm of scientific
esthet